


March 2017

by orithe, Roga



Series: Three Marches [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Collection: Purimgifts Day 3, Gen, Homecoming, don't try to figure out how this works with Civil War canon just go with it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 18:37:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10254680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orithe/pseuds/orithe, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roga/pseuds/Roga
Summary: Bucky comes home.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [noxelementalist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/noxelementalist/gifts).



The call from Ms. Potts comes at 3 PM on the dot. Rebecca lets Lizzie pick up the phone, listening carefully as she places it on the walnut table and puts it on speaker. "Hello?"

"Hi, Liz," Ms. Potts says. "Is your grandmother ready? Are you all there?"

Lizzie turns to Rebecca again, her eyes questioning. _Ready_ , Rebecca thinks, her palms sweating. _I've been ready for this moment for the past two weeks. For the past nine months. For the past three years, since Stevie came out of the ice. For the past seventy-two years, since the day we got the telegram._

Rebecca can't find the words to speak, but she nods. Lizzie nods back.

"It's just me and my mother here, with Gran. The others are waiting at a coffee shop down the street, they won't come down unless we ask them. We're all ready."

"Okay," says Ms. Potts. "He's just outside, then. Let me know if there's anything you need, okay? I'll take care of it."

"Thanks," Lizzie says, and hangs up.

There's a knock at the door.

Rebecca's heart is pounding. "Lizzie, dear," she says, keeping her voice steady. "Please go and wait with your mother in the kitchen while I get that."

Lizzie squeezes her hand for a moment, then disappears into the kitchen.

And then it's just Rebecca, and nine cubic yards of air in front of her, and a two-inch-thick slab of wood before that, and behind that, there's Bucky.

She takes a deep breath, marches forward seven steps, her slippers shuffling on the carpet, one step after another, and opens the door.

*

They still haven't spoken a word to each other, but Rebecca's been holding her brother for a full minute and doesn't think she can ever let go. He was always taller than her, a giant when she was a girl, and he's still big and solid, but so very gentle, even as he's hugging her with one covered arm that she knows is made of metal. His hair is still longer, like it was in the TV footage last year, and in the photos Steve had sent her. His breath is quiet and uneven, a slight, hitching tremor that she feels down to her bones. She squeezes her eyes shut, then opens them again, blinks, reminds herself that this is real. Remembers that she has so much to say.

"Bucky," she whispers into his shoulder. He doesn't reply, and she can feel him tense, and so she squeezes her arms around him harder. "Bucky, I've missed you so much. Bucky, I've read the files and I know what you've done, I'm sorry, I love you. Bucky, Bucky, I'm so glad you're here." He's trembling now, and she feels wetness in her eyes, lets her tears fall on his shoulder. "Bucky, welcome home."

*

In the evening, Bucky gives the green light to invite the rest of the tribe in, and it's barely three minutes before they all pour in; Rebecca suspects they'd left their makeshift Starbucks waiting room a while ago in favor of loitering down in the yard until they were invited in, and her hunch is affirmed when her youngest grandson mentions, slightly wide-eyed, that they'd been hanging out with Bucky's "bodyguards", who were waiting on a bench outside.

Bucky rolls his eyes, but there's a hint of pink in his cheeks. "Didn't think they were still out there. I told them to go."

Rebecca laughs. "It's not like Steve Rogers has ever been known for his protectiveness of you or anything like that."

"Him and his little winged buddy, I swear to god," Bucky mutters, and pulls out his phone, texts something rapidly. "If the city's down two superheroes tomorrow due to pneumonia I'll be the one Tony Stark blames, and we two've got enough baggage as it is."

"I've known Tony Stark since he was a little boy," Rebecca says firmly. "You tell me if he needs a talking to."

"That's—" Bucky pauses, shaking his head. "That is _unbelievably_ bizarre, Becca."

"I'm just gonna second that," Andy pipes up from the floor, where she's leaning against the sofa.

"Yup," says Amy. "Not new. Still weird."

"Okay, orders, everyone," Liz says, stepping in from the kitchen. "I have been appointed this evening's barista. How many coffees, how many teas? Hot chocolates available upon special request."

She makes the round, and when she gets to Rebecca, says, "Grandma, lightly steeped tea, half a teaspoon of honey for you?"

"Yes, dear," she says. Same as she's always taken it; same as their mother used to make it, and she looks at Bucky, so curious if he still takes his tea the same.

Bucky swallows, and his voice is a little scratchy when he says, "Make that two."

*

By the time evening's rolled around, Moose the cat has settled into Bucky's lap, three yellowed photo albums have been pulled out and inspected, and Bucky's phone has been officially inducted into the extended family group chat.

Ms. Potts calls again at 6 to check in and, Rebecca knows, facilitate a smoothly planned exit strategy if required. 

"Stay for dinner, Buck," Rebecca asks quietly. "I'll kick them all out, if you want, but please, stay."

Bucky's eyes are a pale blue, the same as their mother's was; the same as her daughter's is. The same as it was the last time she saw him, the day he shipped off in 1943 and hugged her goodbye at the train station and told her to take care of Ma.

The children have already started making dinner, and the apartment is heavy with the scent of baking bread.

After a beat, Bucky says, soft, "Yeah. Okay." He tucks his hair behind his ear and takes a long sip of warm tea. "I'll stay."

**Author's Note:**

> Art by the wonderful [orithe](http://orithe.tumblr.com/). Thanks for reading <3


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